The Rate of survival on this planet. (Please Read)

I'm here... In elementry school, life was jubilant and never biased. We were all so sinless, and subject to influence. Life is odd; it meticulously sliced its bloody knife inbetween us like scissors prudently cutting the dotted edges of a once perfectly glossy, white paper. Life threw racist ridicules toward me and even abused me with the bare phalanges of my immigrant father. Life strapped me by the neck and thrusted me out in the grand stage subject to humiliation, furthering the leaking gauge of my social anxiety level. Life swung a noose directly encompassing my throat at least multiple times. Everytime it did, I somehow got it slightly loose for me to intake petty doses of oxygen. I'm only 17; I'm not prepared for the "real world". ​